


Laid Bare

by thecookiemomma



Category: NCIS
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-10-19 05:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/197587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, others can know far too much.  Much more than they really need to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laid Bare

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.
> 
> I've been watching the old episodes lately, and noticed that in a very short period of time, the writers made everybody vulnerable and dealing with a lot of issues. This kept running through my head, so here it is. My first attempt at a "character study" type of piece. Enjoy. (Spoilers through 5X03 -- The Ex-Files)

Jethro stood on the stairs, listening to the cassette tape. He caught the look of pity in Hollis' eyes, and pulled his mental shields back up before he could let more of his grief out than he already had. Seeing Stephanie today had been bad enough, especially after finding out that she had fallen into another bad situation. He felt the irrepressible urge to protect her, and it conflicted with his need to find the truth.

He hated it when everything was out in the open like that. Laid bare for all to see.

 

* * *

Tony watched the fire burn the pink letter and envelope, heating his wet frame beside the fire. He was thankful for the water running down his face as it made the tears nearly invisible. Watching the parents with their baby was extremely difficult. It did slam something into his brain, though. He had lost the potential – the chance to have something like that. Maybe forever. He stood up, ran his hands over his face drying both sprinkler water and tears, and walked over to his team.

Later that night, he stood in the shower letting the rivulets of water flow down his face. His grief was palpable. Laid bare for all to see.

* * *

Ziva started doubling her runs. Slowly, of course, she pushed her body into another mile each time, until she was running the same route in the same way as Roy had done. Every morning, she woke up at 0500, dressed in a running suit, and forced herself to pay homage to the man she had loved. Every day, rain or shine, heat or cold, she wore an orange stocking cap. And, if there was a little more sweat on her face – right around the eyes – than normal, well, no one noticed. Except they did.

It was right there. In the course, in the hat, in her tears. Laid bare for all to see.

* * *

Tim sat at his typewriter, tapping away at the chapter. He frowned and paused, stuck on a sentence. After the success of his first book, and the fiasco with his second, Tim had asked the team's permission to base characters on them, bouncing ideas off each of them individually and collectively. They teased him mercilessly about it, of course, and shook their heads when they thought he wasn't looking. He never wanted to put them in that situation again. He was still very nervous about what he had written already; he hoped it would meet their high standards. He needed their approval, their friendship.

He hoped they didn't know, but if he were being honest with himself, the earnest looks, the 'uptalk', the puppy-dog behavior... It was there. Laid bare for all to see.

* * *

Jenny sat in her study, staring at the bottle of scotch and the glass. Her housekeeper peeked in, tilted her head, and frowned. She hadn't even touched her food. It had been like this since that man came in and asked for help. She hadn't intended to eavesdrop, merely wanting to step in to see if the gentleman – well, gentlemen, technically – needed any refreshment. She'd been surprised at Jenny's coldness. But the loss of the Colonel had done something to her, and she worried about her. Especially lately.

Jenny was in pain. Grief, shame, doubt, worry. All etched on her beautiful face. Laid bare for all to see.

* * *

Ducky looked down at the dead petty officer and examined her facial features. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought Caitlin had returned from Indiana, and laid on his table a second time. Naturally, this had happened during the same week he had to deal with a John Doe who'd been unfortunate enough to be the recipient of a car bomb, reminding him of when everyone was afraid Tony had been bombed himself. He knew he was getting old, but the reminders of the hurts and deaths and pains of his team seemed to be piling up on him like … well, like the corns on his poor mother's toe. She wouldn't wear the orthopedic footwear, insisting that they looked … well, her language had been rather colorful on the subject.

He was getting old. Way too old for this. And every time his team looked at him, he was sure it was self-evident. Laid bare for all to see.

* * *

There were too many weirdos out there. Abby stood in front of her mass spectrometer, waiting for a result, sucking pensively on a Caf-Pow. This was such a strange case; it reminded her of several others they'd solved over the years, and it made her uneasy. She thought about calling Gibbs about it, but he was in the middle of his own stuff, and it was just a hinky feeling anyway. She'd feel stupid if there really wasn't anything going on and she'd interrupted something important. So, she stood there and watched Major Mass Spec, hoping he'd turn his little wheels a little more quickly. Her eyes glanced up to the rainy windows, and she remembered getting them replaced. That had been a scary time. One of way too many.

Though she bounced and grinned, sometimes the fear shone in her eyes. For trained investigators like her adopted family, she was certain it was almost impossible to miss. Laid bare for all to see.


End file.
